


Bad Times Are Just Times That Are Bad

by Maze316



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Bonding over trauma, Family Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Maxwell is a good uncle for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maze316/pseuds/Maze316
Summary: The nights in the constant are long, sometimes. As long as the distance between blood.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Bad Times Are Just Times That Are Bad

She awoke with all of the fear of the world. A small gasp. Panicked. Small hands pawed around a dark tent. Frantic. Her chest felt tight in that way that made people worry. That made people give her strange looks. 

Unresolvable anxiety manifested in her hands. She threw open the tent and emerged into the fire light. She squinted against it. Shapes, familiar, but not the one she searched for.

"Abigail?" She meant to cry out into the night, but her thick voice caught in her throat. She cleared it, ready to call out again, when a shape beside the fire stirred. Startled, she jumped, but it quickly left her mind. "Abigail, where is she?"

"She's right here." Bathed in warm light, the figure had a familiar voice. Its tall, thin shadow stood up. 

"Papa?" Wendy asked.

The shadow stopped. They both were frozen in the moment, the cold of the night seeping into their bones. 

"No, it's Uncle Maxy."

"Yes. Right."

She could better make out his features. A little too thin, a face a little too weathered. Free of facial hair, but weighed down by the years. Pale. So pale in the warm light. 

He held something in his hands. A delicate flower bud; it looked freshly sheared from its plant. Only a touch of pink colored its petals.

"Abby," Wendy murmured. She took it from him in cupped hands.

"She helped us with the hounds, remember? She made sure you didn't get hurt."

"I do remember. I had a dream tonight. She defended me from the hounds. However, she wasn't a spirit."

"I see."

"She'll come back this way."

"Yes, she will."

She pulled the flower close to her heart. With one thumb, she gently stroked the petals.

"If you can't sleep, you're more than welcome to help me keep watch," Maxwell said.

"I think that would be appropriate," Wendy said. Under his concerned eye, she sat next to the crackling fire. She stared into it, only glancing down to the flower in her hands.

"You remind me of Willow," Maxwell attempted a joke.

"Uncle Maxwell, do you ever dream of Papa?" Wendy asked.

"All the time, my dear. All the time."

"Do you dream good things, or bad things?"

"Both. Sometimes I dream nothing had changed. We were both in California still, with you and your mother and Abigail. Sometimes Charlie, too."

"And the bad things?"

"That's nothing for you to worry about, my dear. It's hard enough to sleep, knowing they may transpire again while I rest."

"I prefer the night, I think. Being awake, I mean. It's peaceful."

"That it is. I think I do, too."

They let the peaceful night wash over them. Crickets chirped, and fireflies danced like oases in an endless desert. The cool wind mixed with the heat of the fire in a strange, refreshing breeze. The moon was young.

"Wendy?" Maxwell asked.

"Yes, Uncle?"

"I know I wasn't there for you when I should have been. When it mattered. And I'm by no means your father. However, I want you to know… you're still family, and if you ever need anything… I'll be here now."

"You already help provide for all of us."

"I mean, in a different way. You see… you're a very serious young girl. You've been through bad things. It's healthy to feel bad, sometimes. It lets the bad out of you. If you ever need to feel bad, I understand."

"Can I feel bad here for a while?" Wendy asked.

"For as long as you'd like," Maxwell said.

Wendy felt the subtle presence of her sister gather in her flower. The way she navigated the afterlife to find her. To come to her. No matter how bad the bad times were.

She hoped she wouldn't mind the taste of salt splashed on her petals.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a quote from the character Katrina in the Animal Crossing series.


End file.
